Little Moon
by Kitten Little
Summary: One of the tales about true werewolves. When Quinn Parker goes hiking in Germany she meets and is Infected by Malachi. At first, she wants nothing to do with him, but she finds herself falling head over tail pun intened
1. Bitten

**1. Bitten**

I was sixteen years old when I was infected. My father, trying to make up for forgetting my mother's birthday, planned a family summer hiking trip in Europe. That's what they did on their honeymoon.

Neither one of my parents spoke German. I was taking Spanish in high school, so I wouldn't be much help. The main reason I agreed to go was the passport. The Spanish Club at my school was planning a trip to Spain for the juniors and seniors the following summer, and I desperately wanted to go.

My mother wasn't very big on going back to Germany, and she spent the entire time complaining about the smell of the college students staying in a room two doors down or the fact that she'd rather be in Paris, France shopping.

On the morning we decided to hike, she faked a migraine. "Go on, Gary," she said, covering her head with a blanket. "You and Quinn have fun."

I liked hiking, and that was the other reason I came along. My father's job kept us moving from city to city but he had convinced his company to keep him in Arizona until I graduated. I enjoyed hiking in Arizona, but it was just too hot. Europe had the potential to be cooler.

We got out to a trail head in a village whose name I couldn't pronounce at sunrise. My father had me help with his pack. He wasn't as fit as he was twenty-five years ago, but he still occasionally took the the stairs at work.

We hiked maybe a mile when he stopped, out of breath. "You go ahead, baby. I'll catch up."

I wasn't allowed to call my parents Mom and Dad. "Gary, we're in another country. Either one or both of us could get lost." I walked over to the tree he was leaning on. "Catch your breath and then we'll go back to the car. I won't tell Mary."

"No, Quinn. I'm not going to ruin this trip for you." He squeezed some water into his mouth.

"I think we'll get back to town in time for lunch."

Gary slid onto the ground with a loud thump. He started gasping for air and I instantly knelt down beside him. "Go…" he wheezed.

"There is no away I'm leaving you alone out here," I replied. "And we can't speak German. What do you want me to do?" He opened his mouth. "That doesn't involve me leaving."

Gary still couldn't get up when the sun came down. I quickly built a fire, only leaving his side only for a few moments. I said a silent prayer of thanks for the Girl Scouts and the full moon and sat down beside my sleeping father.

--

Next thing I knew, I heard foot steps coming in from our left. I tried to shake Gary awake. "Gary! Wake up! Somebody's coming!"

Gary pulled his jacket over his face. "Five more minutes," he groaned.

"Over here!" I called toward the footsteps. "It's my dad! He's hurt! Help!"

As they got closer, I recognized that they weren't footsteps, it sounded like an animal. I shook Gary. "Get up, Dad! It's an animal!"

Then everything went black.

--

I woke to an unbelievably sharp pain in my side. My shirt felt wet to touch and judging by my light-headedness, it was blood. Suddenly, my head was clear. I sat up and screamed, "Gary!"

An unfamiliar hand pushed me back onto the wet ground. "Rest, Little Moon," he said in a deep unrecognizable accent. "The Infection is still spreading."

I tried to push myself up, but he was either too strong or I was too weak. "Where's my father?" I asked in a surprising soft voice.

"I'm afraid I might have scared the poor man to death."

"He's dead?" I demanded, moving quickly enough that he couldn't stop me. I scooted to the back wall of the dark little cave. "Stay away from me, you—you monster!"

"I cannot leave you alone, Little Moon. You cannot possibly understand what is happening, my love." He reached for me and patted my leg.

At his touch, I felt something that was thrilling and unhealthy at the same time. Fear. _Oh god, he's one of those guys who thinks he can get into a girl's pants by scaring the crap out of them. _I took a deep breath. _Don't let him know he's getting to you._

He didn't even look handsome, his hair was long and dirty and I couldn't even figure out what was clothing and what was skin. He was impossibly clean shaven and his features were sharp but still somehow gentle. He pushed my black hair out of my green eyes. "You feel what's in your veins. We call it the Infection."

The context behind those words was foreign, but I knew he was right. The wound on my side hurt like the dickens and the blood stain looked like a bite mark. "You—you bit me!" I said, spitting in his face. "You sicko!"

He restrained my failing arms. "You need to stay calm, or the Infection will spread too quickly and kill you."

I wailed with no discernable words and kicked his chest with both feet. He fell back and scrambled to his feet. He winced as he lifted up his shirt.

I had to close my eyes. I refused to gape at the six-pack I knew was there. It was too much. I was not going to develop captor dependency. I opened my eyes, unsuccessful in blocking my curiosity. I had been right. This guy was _ripped, _like major hottie ripped. He even looked good with the two boot marks on his chest.

As the heat rose to my face, he slid his shirt back down. "Pardon my manners, Little Moon. You appear younger then your reaction gages you."

I almost couldn't speak, "I—I—my name is Quinn, not Little Moon."

"Quinn, of course. I found this in the bag. I wondered if it was yours." In between his hands he held a tiny blue folder. Although I could not read the writing in the dim light, I knew it was my passport.

I growled at him as he threw in a previously unnoticed fire. "Hey, I need that to get home!"

"You can't go home." He knelt beside me. "Now, let me get a look at that bite."


	2. Infection

**2. Infection**

"Ow! Be careful, Malachi!"

Malachi had ripped his shirt and boiled it over the fire. He was using the rags to clean the bite. "This would be easier if we did not have to hold your shirt, Quinn."

I bit back a yowl of pain. "What am I supposed to do? Take it off?"

I had discovered over the past few days that Malachi was highly practical (despite his insanity) and did not believe in the 'modern' ideal of modesty. "Little Moon, my love, you should understand that your life may be in the balance. Your beliefs to not matter right now." He stopped cleaning. "Decide or I might have to bury you."

I turned away from him and nodded, more to myself then him. "Could you maybe give me a second? You know, to compose myself?" He stepped out of our little cave. I slipped off the shirt and unfastened my bra. The bite was swollen puffy and oozing. Infection was most certainly the right word for it. I muttered a string of curses and called Malachi in.

He pressed the rag on to the wound and I almost fell over as the pain intensified again. "Are you truly in that much pain? I do not remember the Infection."

We were silent for several minutes. "Make it stop Malachi!" I screamed, as the pain suddenly moved across my back. I started to fall down.

He managed to lay me down on the good side. "It is okay," he said, trying to comfort me. "Let it out. Scream."

I wailed. It felt like my ribs were broken. "What the hell is happening?"

"It means the Infection has taken control," he whispered, taking one of the cleaner rags and wiping my forehead. "Your bones are breaking to prepare you for your first Phase. It's still a few weeks away, but the first is the most painful. We call it the Transition. Next, you will get a fever."

--

Malachi was right. When I woke up next, I felt chilled and foggy. The pain was still there, but the fever was masking it. I moaned and tried to sit up. Then I screamed.

Malachi had fallen asleep next to me and draped his arm across my chest, holding me next to his perfectly tan skin. I couldn't help but wonder what he looked like as a wolf…

Then my mind suddenly cleared. _Get a grip! You are __**not**__ turning into a werewolf! This dude is just crazy!_

Malachi sat up. "What's wrong, Little Moon?" he asked drowsily. "I heard you scream."

Once his arm moved, I scooted away from him. "You—me—sleep—arm—couldn't move." I struggled to hold back the anger. "Stay away from me."

"The fever is speaking," he muttered to himself. "Little Moon?" He took a step closer. "Quinn! Look at me. Would I hurt you?"

"Yeah, you would!" I screamed back. "What do you call this god forsaken wound?!"

Malachi stood over me, practically glaring. "A necessary evil. Now, hold still. Remember, your ribs are broken."

"I don't _freakin' _care!" I replied. "I am not letting you turn me into a psycho killer who blames the killings on being a mythical creature!"

His expression softened. "Most defiantly the fever."

"I can hear you; ya know!" I screamed back.

He closed the distance between his carefully. One hand on my face and the other on my shoulder, he whispered, "I know you are frightened, Little Moon, but I need your help as much as you need mine. Can I at least tell you why I Infected you?"

He wasn't going to let me say no, so I nodded. "So ahead."

"Our kind has always been subcategorized by our lifestyle. There are several types of Rouges. Urban, Village, Wild. From what I know, most of the Village and Wild members in Europe have been hunted and there are two Urbans living in Paris, although I've only met one. One entire group is extinct.

"I was Infected as a Pack Wolf and moved up the ranks to Beta. My pack survived several attacks by the Volturi, a group of creatures called the Volturi who hate our kind. Then at the insistence of his mate, Alpha Infected a pup. A child in human terms. I was out on a scavenging trip when they killed the other 15 members and took the pup. That was eleven years ago; I am not sure what happened to her. She was the first one that I know of. Dark-headed, maybe a six-year-old, little thing.

"My kind, the Pack Wolves used to be the most plentiful and numerous members of our species, but the Volturi," he spat the word with disgust, "targeted us first. Placed themselves not only on the throne of their species but of ours as well. They want nothing more then to kill all of us."

I was seventeen, the same age as Malachi's pack's pup. I couldn't help but wonder if she was alive somewhere, with these Volturi. "The Pack Wolves aren't extinct," I muttered, "if you and the pup are still alive."

"You understand," Malachi whispered in astonishment. "You understand why I've kept my hope. I can start a new pack, with you. Away from the Volturi bloodsuckers."

"Bloodsuckers?" I whispered, voice cracking. "As in _vampire_ bloodsuckers?"

"Vampires do not have blood to suck, Little Moon."

What was funny was that I believed Malachi. Only minutes ago, I thought he needed to be put in a loony bin, but he was being really sincere. Of course, the pain helped too and I had a slight fever. Everything Malachi had said was going to happen to me was happening. It made perfect sense. That didn't mean I wanted to be part of something that would make me a target. "Hell, no. I'm so _not_ putting myself under the bus."

"Pardon?" Malachi looked confused.

"You're using me," I said sharply, "to get back at the beasts that killed your family! You don't freakin' care that I have a family in the United States that are grieving and/or worried out of their minds! My father died out there! Did you ever think that I have a life?"

"Your place of origin inspired me to Infect you. I want to go to the United States; to a place outside of Seattle Washington. They call it Forks. I just don't know where that is."

"So, you're using me to go where you want to go. It's not going to work. You burned my passport."

"Is Seattle close to Russia?" he asked, suddenly, quickly.

"You wanna walk there? Through Alaska and Canada? The islands are like sixty miles apart but I can't swim a mile."

"So you do know!" I flushed. "As for your worries: I have a friend in Paris with the uncanny ability to convince any human to do what she wants. Delphine's quite a man hunter when she wants to be. I'm afraid we can't get anywhere humans until you can control your wolf form, but she will help."


	3. Author's Note

Hey, you guys! It's KL and this is not an actual chapter of any sort! I'm pasting this identical note on every single WIP (Work in Progress) fiction I have. Writing _Defining Merci_ (FYI, it's a Criminal Minds fiction) had pushed my mind into a v. dark place and even my college professors are noticing. Therefore, I have decided to not write anything for Merci for a least a month and choose only one not as dark fiction to write that entire month and post one chapter a week.

That is starting in July. For the rest of June I'm not writing anything, but I am putting a poll up so you lot can choose what fiction I focus on for July Here are you choices:

_Progress_, sequel to _Stuck_, a Bree Twilight fiction

_Darkness Always Comes: the Diary of Felicity Anne Peachflint_, an Original Character Harry Potter fiction

_Dark Moon_, a True Werewolf Twilight fiction

_Denying the Moon, _a True Werewolf Twilight fiction

_Little Moon, _a True Werewolf Twilight fiction

_Falling in Love on the 3__rd__ floor, _a Spencer/OC Criminal Minds fiction

I will not count review only votes. You use poll or not get counted at all. Also, it will be a blind poll.


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